THE MARRIAGE.
A.D. 1045-1052
Political importance of a royal marriage.--William's views in regard
to his marriage.--His choice.--Matilda's genealogy.--Her relationship
to William.--Matilda's accomplishments.--Her embroidery.--Matilda's
industry.--The Bayeux tapestry.--The designs.--Uncouth
drawing.--Preservation.--Elements of decay.--Great age of the Bayeux
tapestry.--Specimens of the designs of the Bayeux tapestry.--Marriage
negotiations.--Matilda's objections.--Matilda's refusal.--Her attachment
to Brihtric.--Matilda's attachment not reciprocated.--Her thirst for
revenge.--William and Matilda's consanguinity.--An obstacle to their
marriage.--Negotiations with the pope.--Causes of delay.--William's
quarrel with Matilda.--The reconciliation.--The marriage.--Rejoicings
and festivities.--Residence at Rouen.--Ancient castles and
palaces.--Matilda's palace.--Luxury and splendor.--Mauger, archbishop of
Rouen.--William and Matilda excommunicated.--Lanfranc sent to negotiate
with the pope.--His success.--Conditions of Lanfranc's treaty.--Their
fulfillment.--William and Matilda's children.--Matilda's domestic
character.--Objects of William's marriage.--Baldwin, Count of
Flanders.--The blank letter.--Baldwin's surprise.
One of the most important points which an hereditary potentate has to
attend to, in completing his political arrangements, is the question of
his marriage. Until he has a family and an heir, men's minds are
unsettled in respect to the succession, and the various rival candidates
and claimants to the throne are perpetually plotting and intriguing to
put themselves into a position to spring at once into his place if
sickness, or a battle, or any sudden accident should take him away. This
evil was more formidable than usual in the case of William, for the men
who were prepared to claim his place when he was dead were all secretly
or openly maintaining that their right to it was superior to his while
he was living. This gave a double intensity to the excitement with which
the public was perpetually agitated in respect to the crown, and kept
the minds of the ambitious and the aspiring, throughout William's
dominions, in a continual fever. It was obvious that a great part of
the cause of this restless looking for change and consequent planning to
promote it would be removed if William had a son.
It became, therefore, an important matter of state policy that the duke
should be married. In fact, the barons and military chieftains who were
friendly to him urged this measure upon him, on account of the great
effect which they perceived it would have in settling the minds of the
people of the country and consolidating his power. William accordingly
began to look around for a wife. It appeared, however, in the end, that,
though policy was the main consideration which first led him to
contemplate marriage, love very probably exercised an important
influence in determining his choice of the lady; at all events, the
object of his choice was an object worthy of love. She was one of the
most beautiful and accomplished princesses in Europe.
She was the daughter of a great potentate who ruled over the country of
Flanders. Flanders lies upon the coast, east of Normandy, beyond the
frontiers of France, and on the southern shore of the German Ocean. Her
father's title was the Earl of Flanders. He governed his dominions,
however, like a sovereign, and was at the head of a very effective
military power. His family, too, occupied a very high rank, and enjoyed
great consideration among the other princes and potentates of Europe. It
had intermarried with the royal family of England, so that Matilda, the
daughter of the earl, whom William was disposed to make his bride, was
found, by the genealogists, who took great interest in those days in
tracing such connections, to have descended in a direct line from the
great English king, Alfred himself.
This relationship, by making Matilda's birth the more illustrious,
operated strongly in favor of the match, as a great part of the motive
which William had in view, in his intended marriage, was to aggrandize
and strengthen his own position, by the connection which he was about to
form. There was, however, another consanguinity in the case which had a
contrary tendency. Matilda's father had been connected with the Norman
as well as with the English line, and Matilda and William were in some
remote sense cousins. This circumstance led, in the sequel, as will
presently be seen, to serious difficulty and trouble.
Matilda was seven years younger than William. She was brought up
in her father's court, and famed far and wide for her beauty and
accomplishments. The accomplishments in which ladies of high rank sought
to distinguish themselves in those days were two, music and embroidery.
The embroidery of tapestry was the great attainment, and in this art the
young Matilda acquired great skill. The tapestry which was made in the
Middle Ages was used to hang against the walls of some of the more
ornamented rooms in royal palaces and castles, to hide the naked surface
of the stones of which the building was constructed. The cloths thus
suspended were at first plain, afterward they began to be ornamented
with embroidered borders or other decorations, and at length ladies
learned to employ their own leisure hours, and beguile the tedium of the
long confinement which many of them had to endure within their castles,
in embroidering various devices and designs on the hangings intended for
their own chambers, or to execute such work as presents for their
friends. Matilda's industry and skill in this kind of work were
celebrated far and wide.
The accomplishments which ladies take great pains to acquire in their
early years are sometimes, it is said, laid almost entirely aside after
their marriage; not necessarily because they are then less desirous to
please, but sometimes from the abundance of domestic duty, which allows
them little time, and sometimes from the pressure of their burdens of
care or sorrow, which leave them no heart for the occupations of
amusement or gayety. It seems not to have been so in Matilda's case,
however. She resumed her needle often during the years of her wedded
life, and after William had accomplished his conquest of England, she
worked upon a long linen web, with immense labor, a series of designs
illustrating the various events and incidents of his campaign, and the
work has been preserved to the present day.
At least there is such a web now existing in the ancient town of Bayeux,
in Normandy, which has been there from a period beyond the memory of
men, and which tradition says was worked by Matilda. It would seem,
however, that if she did it at all, she must have done it "as Solomon
built the temple--with a great deal of help;" for this famous piece of
embroidery, which has been celebrated among all the historians and
scholars of the world for several hundred years by the name of the
_Bayeux Tapestry_, is over four hundred feet long, and nearly two feet
wide. The wet is of linen, while the embroidery is of woolen. It was all
obviously executed with the needle, and was worked with infinite labor
and care. The woolen thread which was used was of various colors, suited
to represent the different objects in the design, though these colors
are, of course, now much tarnished and faded.
The designs themselves are very simple and even rude, evincing very
little knowledge of the principles of modern art. The specimens on the
following page, of engravings made from them, will give some idea of the
childish style of delineation which characterizes all Matilda's designs.
Childish, however, as such a style of drawing would be considered now,
it seems to have been, in Matilda's days, very much praised and admired.
[Illustration: PLOWING. From the Bayeux tapestry.]
[Illustration: SOWING. From the Bayeux tapestry.]
We often have occasion to observe, in watching the course of human
affairs, the frailty and transitoriness of things apparently most
durable and strong. In the case of this embroidery, on the contrary, we
are struck with the durability and permanence of what would seem to be
most frail and fleeting. William's conquest of England took place in
1066. This piece of tapestry, therefore, if Matilda really worked it,
is about eight hundred years old. And when we consider how delicate,
slender, and frail is the fibre of a linen thread, and that the various
elements of decay, always busy in the work of corrupting and destroying
the works of man, have proved themselves powerful enough to waste away
and crumble into ruin the proudest structures which he has ever
attempted to rear, we are amazed that these slender filaments have been
able to resist their action so long. The Bayeux tapestry has lasted
nearly a thousand years. It will probably last for a thousand years to
come. So that the vast and resistless power, which destroyed Babylon and
Troy, and is making visible progress in the work of destroying the
Pyramids, is foiled by the durability of a piece of needle-work,
executed by the frail and delicate fingers of a woman.
We may have occasion to advert to the Bayeux tapestry again, when we
come to narrate the exploits which it was the particular object of this
historical embroidery to illustrate and adorn. In the mean time, we
return to our story.
The matrimonial negotiations of princes and princesses are always
conducted in a formal and ceremonious manner, and through the
intervention of legates, embassadors, and commissioners without number,
who are, of course, interested in protracting the proceedings, so as to
prolong, as much as possible, their own diplomatic importance and power.
Besides these accidental and temporary difficulties, it soon appeared
that there were, in this case, some real and very formidable obstacles,
which threatened for a time entirely to frustrate the scheme.
Among these difficulties there was one which was not usually, in such
cases, considered of much importance, but which, in this instance,
seemed for a long time to put an effectual bar to William's wishes, and
that was the aversion which the young princess herself felt for the
match. She could have, one would suppose, no personal feeling of
repugnance against William, for he was a tall and handsome cavalier,
highly graceful and accomplished, and renowned for his bravery and
success in war. He was, in every respect, such a personage as would be
most likely to captivate the imagination of a maiden princess in those
warlike times. Matilda, however, made objections to his birth. She could
not consider him as the legitimate descendant and heir of the dukes of
Normandy. It is true, he was then in possession of the throne, but he
was regarded by a large portion of the most powerful chieftains in his
realm as a usurper. He was liable, at any time, on some sudden change of
fortune, to be expelled from his dominions. His position, in a word,
though for the time being very exalted, was too precarious and unstable,
and his personal claims to high social rank were too equivocal, to
justify her trusting her destiny in his hands. In a word, Matilda's
answer to William's proposals was an absolute refusal to become his
wife.
These ostensible grounds, however, on which Matilda based her refusal,
plausible as they were, were not the real and true ones. The secret
motive was another attachment which she had formed. There had been sent
to her father's court in Flanders, from the English king, a young Saxon
embassador, whose name was Brihtric. Brihtric remained some little time
at the court in Flanders, and Matilda, who saw him often at the various
entertainments, celebrations, and parties of pleasure which were
arranged for his amusement, conceived a strong attachment to him. He was
of a very fair complexion, and his features were expressive and
beautiful. He was a noble of high position in England, though, of
course, his rank was inferior to that of Matilda. As it would have been
deemed hardly proper for him, under the circumstances of the case, to
have aspired to the princess's hand, on account of the superiority of
her social position, Matilda felt that it was her duty to make known her
sentiments to him, and thus to open the way. She did so; but she found,
unhappy maiden, that Brihtric did not feel, himself, the love which he
had inspired in her, and all the efforts and arts to which she was
impelled by the instinct of affection proved wholly unavailing to call
it forth. Brihtric, after fulfilling the object of his mission, took
leave of Matilda coldly, while _her_ heart was almost breaking, and went
away.
As the sweetest wine transforms itself into the sharpest vinegar, so the
warmest and most ardent love turns, when it turns at all, to the most
bitter and envenomed hate. Love gave place soon in Matilda's heart to
indignation, and indignation to a burning thirst for revenge. The
intensity of the first excitement subsided; but Matilda never forgot and
never forgave the disappointment and the indignity which she had
endured. She had an opportunity long afterward to take terrible revenge
on Brihtric in England, by subjecting him to cruelties and hardships
there which brought him to his grave.
In the mean time, while her thoughts were so occupied with this
attachment, she had, of course, no heart to listen favorably to
William's proposals. Her friends would have attached no importance to
the real cause of her aversion to the match, but they felt the force of
the objections which could justly be advanced against William's rank,
and his real right to his throne. Then the consanguinity of the parties
was a great source of embarrassment and trouble. Persons as nearly
related to each other as they were, were forbidden by the Roman Catholic
rules to marry. There was such a thing as getting a dispensation from
the pope, by which the marriage would be authorized. William accordingly
sent embassadors to Rome to negotiate this business. This, of course,
opened a new field for difficulties and delays.
The papal authorities were accustomed, in such cases, to exact as the
price, or, rather, as the condition of their dispensation, some grant or
beneficial conveyance from the parties interested, to the Church, such
as the foundation of an abbey or a monastery, the building of a chapel,
or the endowment of a charity, by way as it were, of making amends to
the Church, by the benefit thus received, for whatever injury the cause
of religion and morality might sustain by the relaxation of a divine
law. Of course, this being the end in view, the tendency on the part of
the authorities at Rome would be to protract the negotiations, so as
to obtain from the suitor's impatience better terms in the end. The
embassadors and commissioners, too, on William's part, would have no
strong motive for hastening the proceedings. Rome was an agreeable
place of residence, and to live there as the embassador of a royal duke
of Normandy was to enjoy a high degree of consideration, and to be
surrounded continually by scenes of magnificence and splendor. Then,
again, William himself was not always at leisure to urge the business
forward by giving it his own close attention; for, during the period
while these negotiations were pending, he was occupied, from time to
time, with foreign wars, or in the suppression of rebellions among his
barons. Thus, from one cause and another, it seemed as if the business
would never come to an end.
In fact, a less resolute and determined man than William would have
given up in despair, for it was seven years, it is said, before the
affair was brought to a conclusion. One story is told of the impetuous
energy which William manifested in this suit, which seems almost
incredible.
It was after the negotiations had been protracted for several years,
and at a time when the difficulties were principally those arising
from Matilda's opposition, that the occurrence took place. It was at
an interview which William had with Matilda in the streets of Bruges,
one of her father's cities. All that took place at the interview is not
known, but in the end of it William's resentment at Matilda's treatment
of him lost all bounds. He struck her or pushed her so violently as
to throw her down upon the ground. It is said that he struck her
repeatedly, and then, leaving her with her clothes all soiled and
disheveled, rode off in a rage. Love quarrels are often the means of
bringing the contending parties nearer together than they were before,
but such a terrible love quarrel as this, we hope, is very rare.
Violent as it was, however, it was followed by a perfect reconciliation,
and in the end all obstacles were removed, and William and Matilda were
married. The event took place in 1052.
The marriage ceremony was performed at one of William's castles, on the
frontiers of Normandy, as it is customary for princes and kings to be
married always in their own dominions. Matilda was conducted there with
great pomp and parade by her parents, and was accompanied by a large
train of attendants and friends. This company, mounted--both knights and
ladies--on horses beautifully caparisoned, moved across the country like
a little army on a march, or rather like a triumphal procession
escorting a queen. Matilda was received at the castle with distinguished
honor, and the marriage celebrations, and the entertainments
accompanying it, were continued for several days. It was a scene of
unusual festivity and rejoicing.
The dress both of William and Matilda, on this occasion, was very
specially splendid. She wore a mantle studded with the most costly
jewels; and, in addition to the other splendors of his dress, William
too wore a mantle and a helmet, both of which were richly adorned with
the same costly decorations. So much importance was attached, in those
days, to this outward show, and so great was the public interest taken
in it, that these dresses of William and Matilda, with all the jewelry
that adorned them, were deposited afterward in the great church at
Bayeux, where they remained a sort of public spectacle, the property of
the Church, for nearly five hundred years.
From the castle of Augi, where the marriage ceremonies were performed,
William proceeded, after these first festivities and rejoicings were
over, to the great city of Rouen, conducting his bride thither with
great pomp and parade. Here the young couple established themselves,
living in the enjoyment of every species of luxury and splendor which
were attainable in those days. As has already been said, the interiors,
even of royal castles and palaces, presented but few of the comforts and
conveniences deemed essential to the happiness of a home in modern
times. The European ladies of the present day delight in their suites of
retired and well-furnished apartments, adorned with velvet carpets, and
silken curtains, and luxuriant beds of down, with sofas and couches
adapted to every fancy which the caprice of fatigue or restlessness may
assume, and cabinets stored with treasures, and libraries of embellished
books--the whole scene illuminated by the splendor of gas-lights, whose
brilliancy is reflected by mirrors and candelabras, sparkling with a
thousand hues. Matilda's feudal palace presented no such scenes as
these. The cold stone floors were covered with mats of rushes. The
walls--if the naked masonry was hidden at all--were screened by hangings
of coarse tapestry, ornamented with uncouth and hideous figures. The
beds were miserable pallets, the windows were loop-holes, and the castle
itself had all the architectural characteristics of a prison.
Still, there was a species of luxury and splendor even then. Matilda had
splendid horses to ride, all magnificently caparisoned. She had dresses
adorned most lavishly with gold and jewels. There were troops of valiant
knights, all glittering in armor of steel, to escort her on her
journeys, and accompany and wait upon her on her excursions of pleasure;
and there were grand banquets and carousals, from time to time, in the
long castle hall, with tournaments, and races, and games, and other
military shows, conducted with great parade and pageantry. Matilda thus
commenced her married life in luxury and splendor.
In luxury and splendor, but not in peace. William had an uncle, whose
name was Mauger. He was the Archbishop of Rouen, and was a dignitary
of great influence and power. Now it was, of course, the interest of
William's relatives that he should not be married, as every increase of
probability that his crown would descend to direct heirs diminished
their future chances of the succession, and of course undermined their
present importance. Mauger had been very much opposed to this match,
and had exerted himself in every way, while the negotiations were
pending, to impede and delay them. The point which he most strenuously
urged was the consanguinity of the parties, a point to which it was
incumbent on him, as he maintained--being the head of the Church in
Normandy--particularly to attend. It seems that, notwithstanding
William's negotiations with the pope to obtain a dispensation, the
affair was not fully settled at Rome before the marriage; and very soon
after the celebration of the nuptials, Mauger fulminated an edict of
excommunication against both William and Matilda, for intermarrying
within the degrees of relationship which the canons of the Church
proscribed.
An excommunication, in the Middle Ages, was a terrible calamity. The
person thus condemned was made, so far as such a sentence could effect
it, an outcast from man, and a wretch accursed of Heaven. The most
terrible denunciations were uttered against him, and in the case of a
prince, like that of William, his subjects were all absolved from their
allegiance, and forbidden to succor or defend him. A powerful potentate
like William could maintain himself for a time against the influence and
effects of such a course, but it was pretty sure to work more and more
strongly against him through the superstitions of the people, and to
wear him out in the end.
William resolved to appeal at once to the pope, and to effect, by some
means or other, the object of securing his dispensation. There was a
certain monk, then obscure and unknown, but who afterward became a very
celebrated public character, named Lanfranc, whom, for some reason or
other, William supposed to possess the necessary qualifications for this
mission. He accordingly gave him his instructions and sent him away.
Lanfranc proceeded to Rome, and there he managed the negotiation with
the pope so dexterously as soon to bring it to a conclusion.
The arrangement which he made was this. The pope was to grant the
dispensation and confirm the marriage, thus removing the sentence of
excommunication which the Archbishop Mauger had pronounced, on
condition that William should build and endow a hospital for a hundred
poor persons, and also erect two abbeys, one to be built by himself, for
monks, and one by Matilda, for nuns. Lanfranc agreed to these conditions
on the part of William and Matilda, and they, when they came to be
informed of them, accepted and confirmed them with great joy. The ban of
excommunication was removed; all Normandy acquiesced in the marriage,
and William and Matilda proceeded to form the plans and to superintend
the construction of the abbeys.
They selected the city of Caen for the site. The place of this city will
be seen marked upon the map near the northern coast of Normandy.[G] It
was situated in a broad and pleasant valley, at the confluence of two
rivers, and was surrounded by beautiful and fertile meadows. It was
strongly fortified, being surrounded by walls and towers, which
William's ancestors, the dukes of Normandy, had built. William and
Matilda took a strong interest in the plans and constructions connected
with the building of the abbeys. William's was a very extensive edifice,
and contained within its inclosures a royal palace for himself, where,
in subsequent years, himself and Matilda often resided.
[Footnote G: See map, chapter ix.]
The principal buildings of these abbeys still stand, though the walls
and fortifications of Caen are gone. The buildings are used now for
other purposes than those for which they were erected, but they retain
the names originally given them, and are visited by great numbers of
tourists, being regarded with great interest as singular memorials of
the past--twin monuments commemorating an ancient marriage.
The marriage being thus finally confirmed and acquiesced in, William and
Matilda enjoyed a long period of domestic peace. The oldest child was a
son. He was born within a year of the marriage, and William named him
Robert, that, as the reader will recollect, having been the name of
William's father. There was, in process of time, a large family of
children. Their names were Robert, William Rufus, Henry, Cecilia,
Agatha, Constance, Adela, Adelaide, and Gundred. Matilda devoted herself
with great maternal fidelity to the care and education of these
children, and many of them became subsequently historical personages of
the highest distinction.
The object which, it will be recollected, was one of William's main
inducements for contracting this alliance, namely, the strengthening of
his power by thus connecting himself with the reigning family of
Flanders, was, in a great measure, accomplished. The two governments,
leagued together by this natural tie, strengthened each other's power,
and often rendered each other essential assistance, though there was one
occasion, subsequently, when William's reliance on this aid was
disappointed. It was as follows:
When he was planning his invasion of England, he sent to Matilda's
brother, Baldwin, who was then Count of Flanders, inviting him to raise
a force and join him. Baldwin, who considered the enterprise as
dangerous and Quixotic, sent back word to inquire what share of the
English territory William would give him if he would go and help him
conquer it. William thought that this attempt to make a bargain
beforehand, for a division of spoil, evinced a very mercenary and
distrustful spirit on the part of his brother-in-law--a spirit which he
was not at all disposed to encourage. He accordingly took a sheet of
parchment, and writing nothing within, he folded it in the form of a
letter, and wrote upon the outside the following rhyme:
"Beau frere, en Angleterre vous aures
Ce qui dedans escript, vous trouveres."
Which royal distich might be translated thus:
"Your share, good brother, of the land we win,
You'll find entitled and described within."
William forwarded the empty missive by the hand of a messenger, who
delivered it to Baldwin as if it were a dispatch of great consequence.
Baldwin received it eagerly, and opened it at once. He was surprised at
finding nothing within; and after turning the parchment every way, in
vain search after the description of his share, he asked the messenger
what it meant. "It means," said he, "that as there is nothing writ
within, so nothing you shall have."
Notwithstanding this witticism, however, some arrangement seems
afterward to have been made between the parties, for Flanders did, in
fact, contribute an important share toward the force which William
raised when preparing for the invasion.